


Stay With Me

by MissClaraOswinOswald



Series: Sherlolly Appreciation Week 2017 [7]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M, I Love You Scene (Sherlock: The Final Problem), Parent!lock, Pregnancy, Sherlolly Appreciation Week, Sherlolly Appreciation Week 2017, Sherlolly Week 2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-19
Updated: 2017-05-19
Packaged: 2018-11-01 04:22:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10914249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissClaraOswinOswald/pseuds/MissClaraOswinOswald
Summary: Molly was having a bad day when Sherlock called her - the morning sickness still hadn't gone. A pregnancy/parent!lock fic. Sherlock season 4 spoilers! Written for Sherlolly Appreciation Week Day 6.





	Stay With Me

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this fic a couple of days after the finale of Sherlock season 4. There was a lot of talking on Tumblr about Molly in the last scene, and a possible pregnancy, so I wrote this! It has a lot of Mindpalace-Mary and Sherlolly fluff. The title is from the song "Stay With Me" by Chanyeol and Punch. Tomorrow I'll upload my favorite story "I am Iron Woman"!

 

“So you have a secret sister,” Mary said.

“Yep,” Sherlock answered. She sat in the chair opposite him, legs crossed. Her blonde hair fell in perfect curls, her eyes were alert. She wore Sherlock’s favorite outfit, a pair of jeans, a blue patterned blouse and white sneakers.

“What are you going to do about it?”

“Confront Mycroft?”

“What, are you gonna ask him?” Mary chuckled, “That’s not like you.”

Sherlock looked up, saw Mary smiling at him. “What do you suggest?”

“Come on, it’s you, Sherlock? You don’t walk up to him and ask him about your secret sister.”

“Eurus,” He answered, “She’s called Eurus.”

“Eurus then. What are Mycroft’s fears?”

“John suggested the same, you know. He suggested a clown.”

Mary laughed. “What do you want with a clown?”

“Wiggins knows some junk who wants to help,” Sherlock answered, “We’ve also found someone who wants to dress up like a little girl. And I got a key to Mycroft’s house.”

“A solid plan,” Mary agreed, “How’s Rosie?”

“Good,” Sherlock answered, “She seemed to do good when I saw her yesterday.”

“And how are things with Molly? I can see her walking around here sometimes. But you never let me talk to her,” Mary looked sad, “I know I am just a ghost of who I used to be. I know this is your mind palace, Sherlock. I am dead.”

Sherlock shrugged, feeling this was already the strangest conversation he’d ever had with a person in his mind palace. They usually were all aware where they were, but he kept appearances up for Mary because he didn’t want her to know she was dead. The drugs messed his brains up, probably. She knew she was dead, he didn’t know why he tried to keep that from mind palace-her.

“I know you are dead.”

“Wake up, Sherlock. John needs you, Rosie needs you. Molly needs you.”

“What?”

“She’s worrying about you,” Mary said, “Maybe you should talk to her.”

“I can’t.”

“The fact you slept with her doesn’t mean you cannot talk to her again.”

Sherlock sighed and opened his eyes. He was back in the living room of 221b. He did not want to think about his conversation with Mary again.

* * *

“I’m having a bad day,” Molly told him. And a bad day it was. She had thrown up several times this morning and the only thing her stomach could handle was tea. She was two-and-a-half months along, and couldn’t wait until this nightmare was over. Molly had even called her aunt to ask her for advice, but her aunt had hung up on her when she heard she wasn’t even married to the child’s father.

It had happened almost three months ago, on Sherlock’s birthday. They had cake together. Later that night, Molly stayed over. She had been Sherlock’s babysitter for the day.

_“I’ll sleep on the couch,” Molly said to him._

_“We always sleep together in your bed when I am at your flat,” he said._

_“This is different,” she answered._

_“It really isn’t. It’s my birthday. Consider this my birthday present to you.”_

_“It’s your birthday, Sherlock. I should give you something, not the other way around.”_

_His hand reached out to hers, she shivered when he touched her. “It’s my day.” Slowly he pulled her closer to him and he pressed his lips to hers. They moved to the bedroom, where he undressed her._

_“You’re beautiful,” he whispered._

That night had been the best night of her life, but she hadn’t expected to get pregnant. When she was engaged to Tom, she’d dreamed of children, Sherlock-like children nonetheless, but she had given that dream up the minute her engagement was over. She beat herself up for not telling Sherlock. She’d only known for three weeks now, and Sherlock had been busy with cases, helping Mrs. Hudson, babysitting Rosie and thinking about his family. He hadn’t told her what was going on, only that memories had started to come back. Her hand was resting on her stomach, the other one was holding her phone. Sherlock was telling her something about saying ‘I love you’ for a case. Not again.

“You have to say it first,” she said.

“I love you,” a silence, “I love you,” Sherlock said, a lot more steady. Like he meant it. Like he really meant it. She held the phone close to her mouth. “Molly?”

“I love you,” she spoke softly. She was disconnected. Gone, romantic moment.

* * *

****You know where to find me. SH.**** The text came a couple of days later. Baker Street had been destroyed, but according to John, it was being rebuilt. Sherlock and she hadn’t talked about the ‘I love you’ incident. She wore a tight turtleneck sweater, which showed her swollen stomach. Molly hoped he would see it. Telling him about their baby was easier that way.

Baker Street was a mess, but Sherlock was already sitting in his chair again. He was texting when she came in.

“Hello, Sherlock,” she said softly.

He looked up, she could feel his eyes on her body. “Molly.” He stood up, walked to her. She expected him to stand still, to look at her, but he wrapped his arms around her.

“I am glad you’re safe.” When he let go, his hand was resting on her stomach. “Congratulations, Molly.”

He looked sad or confused. Or both. Molly couldn’t really tell. “I have to speak about some other pressing matters. My sister, Eurus, and our phone call last week.”

Molly sat down, feeling hopeless already. Now he was going to tell her it was all fake. He talked for at least an hour, concluding his speech with, “I love you, Molly. That is something that is never going to change. That wasn’t fake. I’m grateful to Eurus for forcing me to tell you. Because it’s true. I hope the three of you are going to be very happy.”

Molly was startled. “Sherlock?”

“Yes?”

“The three of us?”

“You, the baby, your new boyfriend,” he explained, “It’s clear as day.”

Molly shook her head. “It really isn’t.” She sat in John’s chair. “You know why? Because there is no new boyfriend. This baby is yours.”

“What?”

“This baby was conceived on your birthday, remember?” She said.

Sherlock’s entire expression changed. He needed a couple of minutes to process everything, but then, he smiled. “In that case, I am really, really happy.” He stood up, pulled her out of her chair and kissed her passionately. “I am going to be a father.”

“Rosie will love her,” Molly mumbled.

“Absolutely.” He kept holding her, “You are going to move in here. It’s finished next week. John moved in next door, we can use his old bedroom for the baby. Mrs. Hudson will love her, she’s always complaining that Rosie will get lonely, now she can play with our daughter.”

“Daughter?” Molly repeated.

“Daughter,” he answered.

“Molly!” Mrs. Hudson came in, with a cup of tea, “Wonderful to see- ow,” She saw Molly’s stomach, “You’re pregnant.”

Molly nodded. “With our baby,” Sherlock said proudly, standing next to her, his hand on her lower back.

“Congratulations!” Mrs. Hudson said, “I am so happy for you! Quite unexpecting.”

* * *

“So you knocked up Molly Hooper and now she lives with you?” Mycroft said in the helicopter when they were on their way to their weekly visit to Eurus.

“She does,” Sherlock said.

“You were always emotional.” Sherlock looked at the bag he had packed for Eurus. He had picked sheet music for her, something new for her to play.

“Why are you still coming with me, exactly?”

“I am coming with you until I trust you enough to be alone with her.”

“Eurus cannot do anything.”

“Eurus is a mastermind, if she wants to something, she gets it,” Mycroft said, “What does our dear Molly think about your long-lost sister?”

“Molly thinks she can help me. She wants to meet Eurus.”

“Eurus is a murderer, Sherlock. You cannot allow your pregnant goldfish or your child to be close to her.”

“What exactly did you call Molly?”

“ _A pregnant goldfish_ ,” Mycroft answered, “Like all the ordinary humans.”

“She is a lot more than just your ordinary goldfish,” Sherlock said, “Molly knows the risk, I can’t keep her from Eurus.”

Sherlock kept thinking about Molly even when he was playing a lullaby, a piece he wrote for especially for Eurus. She was visibly happy with the sheet music. They played violin together for an hour, then Sherlock started talking to her. She sat on her bed, listening. “You remember Molly, Eurus?”

Sherlock had no idea if she was actually listening to him. “We are together now. We are expecting a baby. Molly plays violin too, she wants to play with you, to meet you.”

Eurus’ eyes lighted up. Good sign. “I will bring her in a couple of weeks.”

She seemed happier when Sherlock left, but maybe he was projecting his own feelings. Sherrinford was two hours away from London by helicopter. He was visiting Eurus three times a week, and she started to have facial expressions again. It was a huge breakthrough. Mummy and daddy had asked him if they could see Eurus. He wanted to wait until Eurus had seen Molly.

Molly was home from work when he came back to 221b. “I have been thinking about names,” she said after he had told her about Sherrinford, “For a girl, Mary Eurus. For a boy, William or Christopher.”

“I am honored you would call our son after me,” Sherlock said, “But why would you call our daughter after my homicidal sister?”

Molly looked thoughtful. “She will be an aunt, she needs a push in the right direction. I think it would help her.”

Sherlock shrugged. “Still doesn’t make sense.”

“No dear. I’m just used to your weird plans.”

* * *

Molly walked a lot more confidentially than she was feeling. The asylum gave her the creeps. Her black dress was modest and she wore a coat similar to Sherlock’s, hoping Eurus would recognize it and accept her. It had taken almost two months for the asylum to prepare Eurus for Molly’s visit. Her belly was now visibly swollen at almost 6 months pregnant; she was glad her morning sickness was long gone. Sherlock was holding her hand and opened the door for her. There was a chair in front of the glass. Eurus was sitting on the chair opposite.

“Hello, Eurus,” Molly said.

“Hey, sis.” Sherlock opened the two violin cases and gave Molly her violin. Molly tuned it.

“My name is Molly,” she told Eurus, “I am Sherlock’s girlfriend and the mother of his child.”

“Do you want to play with us?” Sherlock asked. He tuned his violin too. Eurus stood up and started playing. She played the lullaby Sherlock wrote for her; Molly and Sherlock joined it. They played quite long, and Eurus was clearly touched by the music. Tears were flowing down her cheeks. She put her violin down and walked up to the glass, placing her hand on it. Molly stood up and placed her hand on the glass, exactly on Eurus’ hand.

“If it’s a girl, her name is going to be Mary Eurus,” Molly whispered. Eurus was still crying. “You are going to be an aunt. I was wondering if you would like to teach my baby how to play the violin. Sherlock told me you taught him to play so beautifully.” Eurus nodded. Molly was overjoyed. A nod, and tears. It was something. She wasn’t fully communicating, but Molly hoped it would start a fire. Eurus would feel the need to speak eventually.

“You did well, doctor Hooper,” Mycroft told her when they were on their way back to London.

 

“She’s my sister-in-law now, Mycroft. It’s my duty to help her heal. Whatever it takes.”

* * *

 

“A baby!” Mary said with a big smile, “I still can’t believe it.”

“I know, I know,” Sherlock said.

“She can play with Rosie!” Mary was overjoyed. Sherlock had left her alone in his mind palace for ages but had decided to speak to her again. He missed her.

“Why did you stop talking to me, Sherlock?” Mary asked, “Every time you’re here, you’re either talking to your dog, spending time in your library or talking to Molly. And Molly’s living with you.”

“She means everything to me,” Sherlock stated.

Mary stood up, standing in front of Sherlock. He had several inches on her, but she wore her A.G.R.A. face.

“Tell me, Sherlock.”

He closed his eyes and shook his head. “I can’t talk to you because you seem too real. I am raising your daughter, who is a striking resemblance of you, with Molly and John. I have vowed to protect the three of you, and I failed. You are dead.”

Mary looked thoughtful. “It’s all in your mind, Sherlock. I am a creation created by yourself. Everyone here has been created by you. Even Moriarty in his tower. We have tea sometimes,” she smiled, “He tells the best stories when he’s unchained and calmed down.”

Sherlock sighed. Mary and Moriarty being best friends, again another fact he didn’t want to fully realize the meaning of.

“Anyways, I’m a projection of your own mind, Sherlock. Being afraid of me is being afraid of your own mind. We know what can happen if that fear takes over. You can live a truly meaningful life now. I am repeating this one last time, Sherlock. You aren’t the one to blame for my death. I am. I take the full responsibility. I am the one who got me killed and you don’t have to feel guilty. Yes, I am gone, but at least you can raise my daughter the way I would have raised her. To be an intelligent and passionate woman. The same way I know you and Molly are going to raise your daughter.”

Sherlock was silent. “Thank you,” he whispered.

“You can stop by, I enjoy talking to you,” she smiled, “Take your time, Sherlock. I’m not leaving.”

* * *

Molly found him in the nursery of their baby, sitting on the ground. Silent tears flowed down his cheeks.

“Sherlock,” she approached him gently, “Sherlock.” She touched his hand. His eyelids fluttered, slowly he came back to the real world. She wrapped her arms around him; he gave into her embrace.

“It’s Mary,” she whispered.

“I didn’t kill her,” he broke.

“You didn’t, Sherlock. You didn’t break your vow.” He nodded, silence fell. Her unspoken words helped. He was one step closer to healing.

* * *

Molly had started working three days a week, instead of the five; it was necessary because there was a lot of work that needed to be done at Baker Street. For starters, removing all Sherlock’s chemicals from the kitchen. The body parts, guns, syringes, basically everything that was dangerous for a small child could be found. Sherlock had accepted his defeat and had agreed in moving his kitchen-lab to the basement. The baby shower was coming up this weekend, so Sherlock bought a science set and hid it between the presents. There was no way his little girl wouldn’t know the periodic system by the time she was three.

Molly was almost due, she only had two weeks left and she was done with being pregnant. “I want to hold her,” she told Sherlock.

“What do you think about this t-shirt?” He was holding up his phone, showing a picture of a pink t-shirt that said “future scientist”.

“Are you asking me because you truly want my opinion or because you’ve already ordered it and it will be shipped to us tomorrow?”

“The latter,” Sherlock answered.

“What will you do when she doesn’t love science?”

“My heart will bleed, but I will accept it and love her just as much,” Sherlock answered, “She can be anything in this world. If she likes museums, books or art, I will help her to accomplish her dreams.”

Molly started tearing up. “I wish my father had been this supportive.”

Sherlock got up and wrapped his arms around his girlfriend. Molly sobbed. “He never told me he loved me, or that he was proud of me. He just left my mom and me. He cared about me, but he was only disappointed when I got into med school, instead of pursuing a career in business.”

Sherlock held Molly while she was mourning the absent father figure in her life.

“I promise you, I won’t be like that. I will treat you better. I will treat our daughter better.”

“I’m happy you’re her dad,” Molly whispered, “You may be an ex-drug addict, unreliable every once in a while but you’re honest and you keep fighting for the things you love. I adore that.”

* * *

One week later, Molly was screaming at Sherlock because she didn’t want her to touch her while she was in labor. “I’m a doctor myself, I know what to do,” she spat at the nurses.

“To be fair, Molls, you only work with dead people.’

“Doesn’t matter,” she answered.

After a twenty-hour delivery, Mary Violet Eurus was born. She had tiny brown curls and blue eyes, a stunning resemblance of Sherlock.

“I love you,” Sherlock whispered, hugging his girlfriend, “I love you so much.”

Molly was still panting a bit. “I love you too.”

Sherlock didn’t leave them alone, not for even a second. They made Mrs. Hudson, Mary and John the godparents of little Mary. Rosie, now almost 16 months, adored the baby. They visited Eurus a couple of weeks after. Her entire face lighted up when she saw her almost-sister-in-law, brother and niece coming in. Molly placed the baby seat so Eurus could see her. “This is Mary Violet Eurus, your niece, Eurus,” Molly told her. Eurus smiled and walked over to her violin.

She started playing a song that Sherlock had never heard before. He realized quickly that Eurus had written this piece, especially for his little girl. It worked, Mary fell asleep almost immediately.

Sherlock joined in. Molly observed. It was so magical, every time she saw the two play together. Eurus may not be able to communicate normally, but this was the way for her to talk about her feelings and thoughts. She would become dangerous the minute she would be able to speak; Molly didn’t want to think about that. She wished for one normal moment with the father of her child, her sort-of sister-in-law, and baby. The baby’s presence seemed to work on Eurus. She seemed calmer, more at peace, happier.

“We’ll be back,” Molly promised.

Eurus pointed at Mary. “She’ll be there,” Sherlock answered.

He wondered what kind of impact Mary would have on his sister when she’d grow up. If she was able to make his sister smile, and be more in touch with the human world at two months, what would happen if she was six? He was optimistic about the future, for the first time in his life

They went to Mary’s grave a couple of weeks later, to introduce her goddaughter. It was something they’d put off for a while; now they couldn’t avoid it. Visiting Mary’s grave brought back all the emotions neither of them wanted to confront right now, although Sherlock knew it was essential.

Molly sat down on in front of the grave, with Mary in her arms. “We’re here to introduce you to your goddaughter, Mary. This is Mary, we named her after you.”

Sherlock sat next to Molly. “I, erm, I miss you. You conferred a value on my life when you saved it, and I finally understand how to spend that currency. I promise you, I will Rosie to be a passionate woman, I will raise my daughter the same way. I will never stop talking about you because these two need to know you.”

He curled an arm around Molly’s waist and pulled her close to him. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Sherlock.” Baby Mary was silently asleep. Molly closed her eyes. “I miss you, M.”

“ _I miss you too, Molls,”_ Sherlock heard Mind Palace- Mary answer _._ Sherlock closed his eyes and faced her again.

“She’s gorgeous,” Mary told him.

“She’s ours, of course, she’s gorgeous,” he answered.

“I am glad you’ve finally understood the value of your life, Sherlock. I am happy you have found something to keep living for. I do hope you will continue to remember this in the future.”

“I do. I’ve got my two girls and my goddaughter. I think that’s enough of a reason to start valuing my own life.”

Molly saw Sherlock smiling, and understood he was in his mind palace. She let him stay there for a couple more minutes until she pulled him out. “It’s time to go home. It’s almost time for dinner.”

“Dinner,” Sherlock repeated. He’d never understood why people fussed about being married and having kids. Et now he was in that position and he enjoyed every minute of it. He’d give up his entire career to see his daughter happy. Maybe being an ordinary goldfish wasn’t so bad after all.


End file.
